Page 109 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
That night, we spent hours lost in one another. The whole universe could have ceased to exist outside of the door, and neither of us would have noticed, nor cared a damn. As she lay in my arms, the gentle, rhythmic sound of her breath soothed me to sleep. When I awoke a few hours later, I slowly extricated myself from the embrace, to make my way down to my own bedroom. She stirred, and I kissed her forehead.
‘I’m sorry to wake you. I’m just going back to my room to organise a few things for the trip,’ I whispered.
‘Okay. Am I still meeting you on board theOrient?’
‘Yes. I’ll see you at nine thirty. Sleep well, my darling.’ As I grabbed the handle on the door, I turned to look at my wife-to-be, lying peacefully on the bed. Her flowing blonde hair and pale white skin gave her the appearance of a madonna plucked from a canvas of Botticelli.
I have often, in my heart, tried to define love. Now I believe I know what it is. To unthinkingly and gladly put another soul before one’s own, regardless of the consequences. Finishing my longing look, I gently opened the door and shut it behind me, my heart so full of love and pride for the amazing woman who had been by my side for twenty years. And whom, tomorrow, I would marry.
Without you I am
Torn into pieces
Of cosmic dust
The stars are black
The night is endless
The Pleiades weep
The light is now gone
My life is now gone
I am
In bed alone
My world is ended. If you are reading this diary entry, I expect it to be the final one, and the story of Atlas Tanit will be complete. I have managed to survive all these years propelled by the fundamental energy that keeps humans striving forwards against all the odds – hope. But now, even that is extinguished, and I do not have the energy to continue. Latertonight, when the deck is quiet, I will willingly throw myself into the ocean, and let the freezing water consume me. I hope the waves are merciful, and it is a quick death.
I only feel moved to write this last entry out of a sense of duty to you, the reader. It is not the ending I dreamt of as a young boy when I first put pen to paper. Perhaps you have discovered this diary and turned straight to the end, to find out what happened to the man who threw himself off a steamship. Or, maybe, you have completed my entire life story, which I hope has been interesting if nothing else. If that is the case, I am sure that you have already surmised the fate that has befallen me.
Elle is gone.
My worst nightmare has become my reality, and I cannot face existing in it for too much longer.
After leaving Elle’s room in the early hours of this morning, I returned to my own quarters. I wrote in this diary, reordered my suitcase and then climbed into bed, with dreams of my wife-to-be lulling me into sacred slumber. I awoke at eight, got up and paid the hotel bill, along with our tickets for the passage. Then I made my way on board the RMSOrientand found our cabin. I even excitedly told the young steward who helped me with my bag about my plan to marry on the voyage, and he assured me that the captain would be more than happy to oblige. Then I took coffee and strolled out onto the deck, to watch for Elle.
There was an enormous throng of people by the water’s edge, clearly reluctant to let go of their loved ones who were departing for Australia. The pain of human separation was visceral, and I thanked my stars that I was boarding this ship with the only family I would ever need.
As the clock approached nine thirty, I made my way down to the gangplank where we had arranged to meet. As the minutesticked on, and my watch read nine forty, I began to panic that Elle had overslept. I explained the situation to the steward, who assured me that there was enough time for me to run back to the Voyager Hotel and return to the ship before departure.
I sprinted down the gangplank, nearly sending a family flying into the water as I did so. I burst into the hotel lobby and up to Elle’s floor, banging loudly on the door, which garnered no response.
I tried calling out. ‘Elle!’ I cried. ‘Elle, the ship is about to leave! Elle!’
Realising my efforts were clearly fruitless, I ran back down to the lobby, where the bespectacled receptionist from the day before was now on shift.
‘Ah, good morning, sir! A big day ahead. Actually, shouldn’t you be on board? The gangplank is due to be raised in fifteen minutes.’
‘Yes, I know, but my fiancée is still in bed. She was supposed to meet me on the steamer, but she hasn’t shown up. Could you please unlock her bedroom door so I can rouse her?’
The receptionist looked puzzled. ‘Actually, sir, I saw her leave about half an hour ago. She walked through the lobby with her suitcase.’
I frowned. ‘That can’t be possible. She hasn’t boarded the ship. You must be mistaken. Please, I want you to unlock her bedroom.’
‘Really, sir, you have to believe me, I—’
